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I SANTEE, 

FOR THE NATION, 






BY 



CARELESS NED. 



ALEXANDRIA, VA. 

PRINTED AT THE ALEXANDRIA GAZETTE OFFICE. 

\ 1850. 






SANTEE,- 



^n, CPCSOBS5C2 



FOR THE NATION, 



BY 



CARELESS NED, 



ALEXANDRIA, VA. 

PRINTED AT THE ALEXANDRIA GAZETTE OFFICE. 

1850. 



<> 



PREFACE. 



The author would speak to the world, not 
for the mere purpose of apologizing, but that 
at the outset there may be a fair understanding. 

He who has written, ne'er knew the cradle 
of luxury, was never nursed upon the pil- 
lowy lap of the Jllma Mater of Science, but 
in the vicissitudes which roll with the bil- 
lows of life, has gleaned whatever he may 
possess of fancy or knowledge. 

The laws of rithm and versification, as 
given in books he has never paid but little at- 
tention, therefore, if there are imperfections 
in these respects^ as emanating from him, 
they bear their own excuse. 

The time and place of the Poem, will, no 
doubt, be at once understood and recognised 
by the reader. His object has been to por- 
tray the spirit of '76. The imperfections are 
those of a mortal ; and now while the author 
hails his country in the spirit of Liberty, and 
dares the smiles or frowns of a world, he 
neither asks nor seeks to merit ought more 
than the title. 

CARELESS NED. 



SANTEE 



CANTO, 1. 



cDOPQPS33Li:ms3Si3£i^S2ro 



i. 

Of old was sung by Scotland's son, 
Her deeds of fame and glory; 
When lords and knights, 
And belted wights, 
In red fight fell, or vict'ry won, 
By castles grim and hoary — 
Bold deeds as done 
By each free son, 
On Katrin blue 
And Benvenue. 
Duncraggain's heights and Lindisfern, 
How once they teem'd with warriors stern, 
Of brave Fitz James, and Rhoderic Dhu f 

With "dauntless Harold" bold and true; 

1 



5 

Of Douglas' mighty arm, which hove 
The massy bar, or fiercely strove; 
When thick'ning ranks rush'd to the fray, 
Like mountain's flood drove them away. 

Each rocky glen 

That teem'd with men, 
Armed for most deadly strife, 

Each craggy height 

Uprear'd in might, 
Pouring its tide of breathing life. 
All has been sung of "doughty deeds," 
Of kingly heroes, that song needs, 
Let's now the lyre anew awake, 
And tune its notes for freedom's sake 
For freedom true, and freedom bold ! 
Freedom ! which ne'er in song was told, 
Freedom ! as bought by priceless blood, 
Freedom ! eternal as its God ! 

II. 

By Santee's stream Young Edgar grew, 

Her rolling waters, he well knew, 

Her downy banks his oft resort, 

Her darkling waves his fondest sport — 

On, on, life's morn as briskly ran 

As rivulet through summer's glen ; 

As crystal waters calm serene, 

A mirror bright, but yet a dream. 

Days fled, and months, and years away, 

Hasten'd with youth's first golden ray : 

The hills oft heard his rifle's crash, 

The dun deer saw its fatal flash, 
2 



The echoes by its thunderings woke, 

In ebbing accents answering spoke. 

The green hills which around him lay, 

Oft echo'd back his hounds loud bay. 

Through tangl'd brier and forest glade, 

He fearless rov'd or fondly play'd. 

No secret foe then lurked near, 

The Indian rude was nought to fear ; 

No battles din, or loud alarm, 

No daring foe or hostile arm 

Had then been rais'd on Santee's shore, 

Her waters parted by no oar 

Save Red-man's as in light canoe, 

He swiftly glid the current through. 

III. 

List ! list ! soft melody floats, 
Hist ! hist ! to the woodland notes, 
The breeze is gentle, and balmy is air, 
The earth is lovely and odors most rare, 

Are stealing o'er fields, 

Which are soothing to heart, 

Which renew this dull life 
And a new hope impart ; 
Then hist thee awhile, and list to the song. 
Of natures own maid by the breeze borne along. 



7 



" The zephyrs softly fan my cheek, 
"Now the lov'd resort I seek ; 
. " The dews are falling, 

u The lambs are calling, 
" The reaper to his home hath gone, 
"The red-breast to his nest hath flown : 

" My harp is tuned 

" Thy favorite lay 

" Is ready now 

" Oh come away ! 

II. 

"Come, come, away, 
" Why dost thou stay ? 
" Thou wert not wont to tarry. 
" Thou knowest the spot where many a day, 

" When glad as life and gay as May 
" Our youthful hearts made merry. 
" The sun declines, 
" And gentle hinds 
" Are bleating o'er the lea ; 
" Then haste away, 
" While shadows play, 
" Oh haste, and come to me." 
III. 
Up Edgar ! up ! nor wait delay ! 
Speed ! speed thee hence, and haste away ! 



8 

What is a day's fatigue to thee, 

Though thou hast chas'd through brake o'er lea 

The antler'd buck as far he fled 

To 'scape thy hound or flying lead ? 

Thou hearest then the mellow strain, 

Tho' thou wast dull, thou'rt life again — 

("Come Jowler ! come ! thou art my guard,") 

Forth bounds his dog out o'er the sward, 

Forgotten is his weary flight, 

For well he knows his errand right. 

IV. 

With Edgar too, the toils of day 
Forgotten are, forth on his way 
He gladly hies with fearless strides, 
Through bush and covert softly glides. 
In sweet retir'd and glassy bay, 
His bark snug moor'd, securely lay ; 
Undone its fastenings, in he leaps 
And o'er the waters lightly sweeps; 
He fastens to a sapling nigh 
His trusty boat, and then doth fly- 
Yes ! yes ! I come ! my Alice ! I ! 



Happily met the lovers true, 

And light wing'd past the fond hours flew ; 

No nobler hearts could ever meet, 

No gentler souls each other greet, 

Than Edgar's brave, and Alice's mild, 

Though his soul teem'd with fancies wild ; — 

Though 'neath his breast there beat a heart 



9 

Bold, daring*, free, quickly 'twould start ; 
And when his ear heard tales of woe 
As ocean rocks both to and fro, 
His mighty spirit would o'erflow. 

VI. 

" I come ! I come ! my Alice ! 1 ! 

11 Fear not ! fear not ! for I am nigh, 

" I come to hear the promised tale 

"Thou said'st thou'st give me without fail/ 

VII. 

"But first, I pray thee Alice dear, 

< c With favorite song to glad mine ear ; 

u The owlets hoot, the crickett sings, 

" With happy minstrels nature rings, 

" Then wake thy harp, please give the strain 

"That's charm'd me oft, yet once again." 

VIII. 

Once more she then resumed her harp, 
Waking its tones both soft and sharp ; 
Playful she wander'd o'er the strings, 
With swelling cadence clear it rings : 
" But soon the strain her fancy caught, 
" Which wand'ring thus she long had sought ; 
" With gentle preludes she began, 
" Then the song at length* thus ran. 



*After awhile. 



10 



I. 

" Freedom ! freedom ! dear to me, 
"Freedom ! freedom ! let it be, 
" The hills are barren, 

" The vallies are drear, 
" The woodlands are waste, 

" The forests are sear ; 
" My home, it is cheerless, 

" My heart is forlorn, 
" Liberty ! Liberty ! 

" Thee do I mourn. 

II. 

u Oppression ! Oppression ! dare raise its strong arm, 
" Oppression ! Oppression! fills the world with alarm, 
" Proud despots are ruling, 

u Poor lordlings bear sway, 
6t I'll escape their foul chains, 

" Though I die on the day. — 
"My home it is cheerless, 

" My heart is forlorn, 
" Liberty ! Liberty ! 

u Thee do I mourn. 

III. 

" Liberty ! Liberty ! dear to me, 
11 Liberty ! Liberty ! let it be ; 
" I endure no more, 



11 

" The white sails are spread, 
" The waters around, 

" The blue sky overhead — 
" My home it is cheerless, 

" My heart is forlorn, 
u Liberty ! Liberty ! 

" Thee do I mourn. 

IV. 

" Liberty ! Liberty ! dearest to me, 
H Liberty ! Liberty ! over the sea ; 
" The dark waves are heaving 
" The white spray is Jashing 
" The loud thunders boom, 

" And the lightnings are flashing ; 
" My home it is cheerless, 

u My heart is forlorn, 
u Liberty ! Liberty ! 
" Thee do I mourn." 



Thus ended the strain, 
But he did remain 
In imusing wrapt mood to the spot. 

What the rude lay could mean, 

He had never dar'd glean, 
Tho* he wish'd that it never had stopt. 
Strange fancies before had oft fill'd his brain, 
That dire oppression drove her o'er the main ; 
Yet nought could he tell for he never had prest 
To know all the woes of her innocent breast ; 
But the tale 'gain recurs to his lab'ring brain, 
With haste most abrupt he doth from her it claim. 



12 

VI. 

" Thou knowest my sire and name full well, 
" In yon rude cot my parents dwell ; 
" But thou dost seek in haste to know 
u Why we dar'd cross the ocean's flow ! 
" I'll tell it thee, though sad the tale, 
"And though it make thy heart to quail. 

I. 

" In England, merry England, as 'tis call'din mocking pride, 
My ancient sires have lived, my ancient sires have died. 
In Manchester, far fam'd town, 

Were my kindest parents born, 
There first I hailed the light 

Which doth fair earth adorn. 
Life's morn rose most fairly, 

And gaily and brightly 
The dark hidden future, 

Dawn'd loving and sightly; 
No dreams then, oppressed me 

Of anguish in store, 
My heart gay and joyous, 
I ask'd for no more, 
II. 
Affluence, rich affluence crown'd earliest days, 
And servants and courtiers watch'd over my plays ; 
But misfortune will lower, and often most dark, 
Extinguishing hope e'en the very last spark. 



13 

III. 

My father's castle tow'ring rose, 

O'er a bright and sheeny bay ; 
And nature's morn and nature's eve 

Made there enchanting day. 
Its wind-swept turrets worn by time, 

Fearless withstood the tempest's shock- 
Fearless* upon the cloud-swept height 

Below you'd view the beetling rock. 

IV. 

My father's park inviting lay, 
Spread to the west in glorious ray, 
Whose bounding stag and harmless hind 
Could crop the herbage, snuff the wind ; 
Where grottoes cool and caverns rude, 
I wandered 'mongst and often view'd. 

V. 

There fountains dashed their limpid spray, 
As if 'twere nought but wanton play; 
There forests reared their heads in pride 
And groves on groves the tempests bide ; 
There swift thro' the covert 

The timid hare flew, 
And fierce baying after 

The blood hounds sped true ; 
There too the gay hunters 

Their keen sport pursu'd, 
Loud cheers and huzzas 
Those vales oft renew'd. 



♦Standing fearless. 



14 

VI. 

" 'Twas glorious," they said 

As their light chargers sped, 

O'er hedge and through dingle, 

Making wild crags to jingle ; 

O'er stream and through brake — 

"To hear the fierce pack 

As they press on the track, 

Their harmonious melody wake:" 

They said, "times were gay, 

And happy each day, 

As thus each after each flew along," 

Perhaps 'twas e'en true, 

For I little then knew, 
Of the ills which to this world belong. 

VII. 

But soon, ah ! too soon ! the dark days did lower, 
Soon, ah ! too soon, the tyrant's dread power 

Made our fair home a desert, 

And our glad house of mirth 

One of mourning and weeping, 

All deprived of its worth. 
VIII. 
Sad was the day, yes, sad indeed, 

When Albert died 

My mother's pride, 
My father's glory and his need. 
Yes, yes. I do remember well 
The dark, uncheer'd and gloomy spell, 
Which like a pall o'er our home hung, 
And which our hearts with anguish wrung. 



15 

IX. 

With Alber! Pd no other brothers, 
Him then I loved before all others ; 
Four short years older he than roe, 
Straight, trim and tall like beechen tree ; 
And as he grew, with doting heart, 
My parents watch'd each wayward start 
His free-born mind would often make, 
Most fearful lest his steps should take 

Or tend a dangerous way — 
They guarded, watch'd him 
Counsell'd cheer'd him, 

Till life had rose to manhood's day. 

X. 

And then "the days that tried men's souls, 5 ' 
That pilgrims drove o'er buried shoals 
Of ocean's deep and dangerous tide, 
That many caus'd its waves to bide. 
Oppression's arm was stronger raised 
The despots ire then fiercer blaz'd. 
Taxation in its pressing forms 
Rebellion stirs, rebellion warms. 
Albert's proud nature would not bear, 
The tyrant's servile chains to wear; 
He cast them by in fearless mood, 
And bade the monarch take his blood, 
For never while it cours'd his veins, 
Would he submit to wear such chains ! 

XL 
The monarch's anger fiercely stirr'd, 
More fiercely still each burning word 



16 

Roll'd forth from Albert's tongue 
As through that hall they boldly Tung, 
I now am free ! and free I die ! 
No ruler's mine save God on high I 
To him alone will I dare bow ! 
Hear then, oh tyrant I this my vow — 
As God's above and eanh beneath, 
As here I live and have my breath, 
I'll never wear this galling yoke ! 
(Stronger and high the accents broke.) 
Though wide world smoke and red blood flow, 
From pole to pole ! no ! never ! no I 
XIL 

Then, then, was heard the rattling steel, 
Hard blades did crash and stout wards reel, 
Ho ! seize him ! seize him ! nor forbear, 
Yet save his life! yes, spare him, spare I 
His fate ignoble, shall be known 
Throughouf the realm, for all shall own 
My arm is power, my laws obey, 
Yea, all shall fear my sceptre's sway I 
They bore him to a dungeon dark, 
All light shut out, no, not a spark 
Was left to cheer the midnight gloom, 
Day after day in rayless room 
From morn till noon from noon till night> 
All void and darkness was his sight. 

XIII. 
He felt the clay cold walls around, 
He heard the groans of felons sound, 
As writhing in their chains they curst 



17 

Their God and King and tried to burst 

The bars and bolts which held them there, 

Till tired nature bade forbear. 

For one long week thus Albert pin'd, 

Where adders hissed and cold worms climVd 

His fetter'd arms and chained feet, 

To inspect the feast they soon would eat. 

XIV. 

But then they drag'd him forth to death, 
Oh God above ! now give me breath, 
And life and strength 
To tell the vale in its full length. 
They drag'd him forth to death, I said. 
The hangman with his arm blood red, 
I saw adjust the fatal cord ! — 
I saw no more ! heaven kindly poured 
A flood of darkness on my brain, 
And when I woke to life again, 
I found me in my father's halls- 
Then loud for Albert were my calls. 

XV. 

Silence then reigned for my sake, 

Nor was there one dar'd tell his fate, 

But whisperings came which told me well — 

'His doom was sealed 5 — back to that cell 

They bore his body on that day 

To feast the worms; now spiders play, 

Where once, his beaming eyes free roll, 

Clear, heavenly blue, spoke all his soul — 

The slimy toad may nestle there, 

'Mongst the once waving soft black hair — 



18 

XVI. 

Hast heard enough ? — then I'll forbear, 

For more to tell I do not care, 

Thou hast my tale, from this thou'lt know 

What drove us hence, 'twas utter woe. 

We crossed the ocean's briny deep, 

We sought this shore, that we might reap, 

Blessings, such as freedom gives 

Blessings, such as hope receives. 

Here in this place w^e hope to dwell, 

Retir'd and free from the dread spell 

Which tyrants would throw over earth, 

Destroying all that life is worth. 

Thus ends my tale, — thou hast it all, 

Never again may mortal call 

To hear it from my tongue, 

I'd not anew have this heart wrung — 

Enough ! enough ! ho, Edgar ! wake \ 

Art thou asleep while I relate 

My much lov'd brother's wretched fate V 9 

XVII. 
Wildly he starts as one from dreaming, 
While with strange fancies soul is teeming — 
Am I asleep ! no, Alice ! no ! 
Who would dare sleep when tale of woe, 
Like thine was sounding in his ear ! 
I would the tyrant were now here, 
I would transfix him with this spear, 
I'd plunge it in his blacken' d heart ! 
Yes, through and through, I'd pierce the dart. 
But we must hasten hence my love, 
For darkness steals o'er hill and grove. 



19 

XVIII. 

With heavy hearts the fond ones parted, 

She to her rural cot retir'd ; 
While Edgar wander' d pondering on 

As freedom's thoughts his soul inspired. 

CANTO II. 



I. 

Now, nerve, thy hearts with triple steel, 
Be strong thy souls, for they must feel 
That tyrants in their mighty pride, 
Will boldly cross the ocean's tide ; 
And when thought far on distant shores 
At-hand thou hear'st their sullen oars. 

II. 

Oppressions chains on plains afar 
Most loudly clank — what! is it war? 
Rebellion in its sternest mood, 
That mortals thus can thirst for blood ? 

III. 

'Tis desire for mightier sway, 
Makes bellows roar and forges play ; 
Loudly from hill to hill rebounds, 



20 

From rock to rock the echo sounds, — 
Briton's proud sons in haughty might, 
Would tax us here, would fill with fright 
The souls which nought but freedom know, 
Lives all unfetter' d as the flow 
Of Santee's waters in their course, 
Which ever roll in fearless force. 

IV. 

Morn rose on the hills of America's shore, 
Where freedom lay cradl'd 'neath the cataract's roar, 
Where it stalk'd the deep vale, and strode o'er high hill, 
Where it bounded on down with clear mountain rill, 
Where 't abode in deep glen, or mountain defile, 
Or on the fair plain did lovingly smile ; 

Morn bright, and morn glorious 
Rose up on its way, 

And walk'd forth o'er the earth 
With unquestion'd sway. 
All nature was glad, and the glad hills resounded 
With the music of warblers, the deer gaily bounded, 
From covert to covert in all their wild pride, 
Or lav'd their sleek limbs in the Santee's cool tide. 

V. 

The Indian hunter, dark, tawny his brow, 

Its smooth waters parts with light birchen prow ; 

The twang of his bow is heard from afar 

And his arrow's loud whiz at it speeds thro' the air ; 

Afar in the ether where he soar'd in his might— 

The white crested eagle is shorn of his flight, — 

The buck as he bounds out o'er the green bank 



21 

» 



'Scapes not the barb'd arrow which wings to his flank 
But hark from yon forest as sweetly 'tis play'd 
The clear morning song of the dark ey'd maid. 






iCDsard^ 



" Go forth ! go forth ! my lover true, 
Go forth and bend the pliant yew ; 
Bring me the flesh of mountain deer, 
Bring me the fish from waters clear, 
Bring me soft skins from panther's lair, 
Bring me the plumes the eagles wear. 
Go forth ! go forth ! no longer stay, 
The wild beast roameth on his way ; 
Go forth my brave, and do not tarry, 
Return at eve, then we'll be merry. 
In gambols play while the sun is up 
Upon the heath the doe and buck ; 
Away, my brave, no longer tarry, 
Return at eve then we'll be merry. 5 ' 



VI. 

But hark! again 

O'er hill and plain, 
There comes another sound, 
That wakes to life the earth around ; 
From north to south it loudly rings, 
"The bark is moor'd which slavery brings. 
The caverns are echoing, forests are moaning, 



22 

From the breadth of the land upborne is a groaning 
Strong and wailing tones, speak not misunderstood — 
A day has arrived which bodes freedom no good." 

VII. 

Hark ! to the north, what means the cry ! 

"Down, rebels ! down ! disperse and fly ! 

The mandates of a king we bear 

And wretches lives we will not spare. 

Hie to your homes ! away ! away ! 

Ye coward curs, nor long delay ! 

With mighty arm and power we come, 

From England's king, from England's throne. 

Throw down your arms ! again I cry, 

Or else I swear you all shall die ! 

Shall power like yours on earth bear sway ? 

Children ye are — 'twere nought but play 

For England's lion to o'ercome 

Each feeble soul and forest home." 

VIII. 

"Die then we will, since born to die, 
Nor question God the reason why ; 
But never while their lives they bear 
Will freemen stoop thy chains to wear. 
Triumph awhile, perhaps you may, 
Yet, hear us now ! there'll come a day 
When freedom's arm, uprear'd by God, 
Shall drive proud despots from this sod ! 
When liberty's star flag unfurl'd 
Shall flaunting wave before a world ! 
When men from hearts with lips God bless, 



23 

With their own prayers his throne address, — 
Hear then again, 'fore God we swear ! 
Oppression from these shores we'll tear ; 
And England's crown shall rue the time, 
When it would cross the ocean's brine ! " 

IX. 

This, then, bold freedom's stern declare, 
And thus the oath was borne on air — 
Throughout the land, the tale it flew, 
The cliffs it echoed, breezes blew, 
Till every son of freedom's soil 
Arising from his daily toil, 
The meaning of the words well knew, 
While beat his heart with purpose true. 
The rural hamlet glens remote, 
Had heard the echo of the note ; 
Ag'd grey haired sires and youngest son, 
Their duty knew if strife begun. 

X. - 

But hark ! again the warning comes, 
To arms ! to arms ! defend your home; 
The eagle crested banner, high 
Raise it as heaven's blue bending sky ! 
Then rally under, firm to save, 
Nor let it fall but o'er your grave. 
Raise it ! by every woodland hill, 
Raise it ! by every bounding rill, 
Let its strong standard upward bear 
The stars and stripes aloft in air ; 
Let freedom's sons then fearless bow 
And 'fore their God pronounce this row 



24 

XL 

„Here, where breezes freely blow, 
Here, where flowerets gaily grow, 
Here, where nature smiles each day, 
Here, where the lambs joyously play, 
Here, with the blue sky overhead, 
The earth beneath on which we tread ; 
Here, where we view old ocean roll 
In its full might from pole to pole ; 
By home and kindred we do swear ! 
And be it heard through earth and air, 
We're freedom's till our latest breath, 
We're freedom's even in our death ! " 

XIL 

The answer flew from crag to crag, 
Where floated wide that starry flag ; 
"To freedom or to death we're sold ; 
Though conflict thickens we are bold, 
And freedom's cause shall ne'er grow cold 
Till all her sons the grave doth hold." 
From far and near then quickly flew, 
Each gallant one, bold heart and true ; 
From east and west the floods pour'd in, 
With ready arm should strife begin. 
The ancient veteren, crutch thrown by, 
With youth renew' d — ho, see him hie ! 
His rifle to his shoulder slung 
That death's dread knell hath often rung. 
See ! too, the stripling full of pride, 
With soul elate march by his side, 



25 

With purpose high for daring deed, 
Ready to strike a Mow in need, 

XIIL 

The ploughman leaves the panting steer 

In furrow' d field, and hastes for fear 

The strife already is begun, 

Fast o'er the plain, oh, see him run ! 

And matrons too of lofty name, 

Glory and honor, highest claim ; 

No Roman mother in her pride 

'Ere girted sword to her son's side, 

With loftier heart, or purpose higher, 

Than those brave matron's in desire 

To serve their country's highest need, 

And if need be for her to bleed : 

Well may you know, that cause ne'er knew 

A better ally or more true. 

XIV. 

To Santee's shore the note was borne, 
As rose o'er earth that golden morn. 
The Indian in his haughty pride, 
His boat in covert sought to hide, 
And speeding o'er the level plain 
Hasten' d his village to regain ; 
There in wild accents he did tell — 
"The Pale-Faces' knife is sharpen'd well ; 
They go to war with one another, 
Let's watch the strife my dark ey'd brother, 
For truth and right we will declare, 
Nor scalp of foe will ever spare. 



26 

The hatchet we will dig again: 

For idle we must not remain ; 

Our whoop the knell for many a grave, 

Its loudest tones shall cheer the bj:ave/ r 

XV. 

And Edgar too as forth he roves 
In morning's light to forest groves. 
Has heard the doleful accents tell, 
Of tyrants power, and tyrants will* 
Swiftly as mountain deer he flew 
To tell the tale to each anew ; 
From vale to vale the tidings sped, 
From hill to hill as fast he fled, 
That every son should full well know 
His country's cause call'd him to go. 
And Alice hears the sounding tale r 
Which first makes her mild heart to quail; 
But Edgar comes to soothe her well, 
To cheer her heart and calm the spell. 
Lo! see him speed with breathless haste 
As though delay were worse than waste ; 
He clasps her in his manly arms 
And quiets all her dread alarms. 

XVI. 

But who is he, that from his hold 

Hears the fell tale as it is told ? 
Marion ! Marion ! is the man 
Let it sound o'er hill and glen ; 
Marion dauntless ! Marion bold ! 
Marion! who doth lightly hold 



27 

Each proud oppressor of the world, 
And while the flag is free unfurl'd 
Freedom's foes shall know his arm, 
Shall hear his name in wild alarm, 
His eagle eye shall scan the fight, 
His nerve firm brac'd will serve the right 

XVII. 

The alarm has sounded far to north, 
And to the south the cry breaks forth; 
Marion heard unwelcome notes, 
Loudly they peal'd from thousand throats ; 
Without delay arms he for fray, 
His country's summons to obey — 

Forth dar'd to stride, 

Pre par' d to bide 
The coming tide of war; 

His way he took 

From his rude nook 
That he might feel its awful jar. 
He traversed o'er the gay green hills, 
And boldly leap'd the leaping rills, 
His way he found t'where Santee's tide 
Did onward to the ocean glide. 

XVIII. 

Upon its shores, so calm, serene, 
Were seen the forms of anxious men ; 
In doubtful mood they musing stood 
Beside that pure and tranquil flood. 
All pond 'ring were in what array 
They best could meet the coming fray— 



28 

Who? who comes here, bronze cheek and brow? 

Speak ! answer me ! I would know now t 

A broad sword such as Rhoderic swung 

Girt to his side is graceful hung, 

While on his shoulder he dares bare 

His rifle true, foe well might fear. 

From mouth to mouth the name doth fly,. 

"Marion ! Marion 1" all do cry ; 

He for our leader, God our guide, 

No tyrant shall our onset bide. 

XIX. 

Come true hearts then and rally 'round, 
No longer doubting be ye found ; 
By Santee's stream let it be told, 
There once beat hearts for freedom bold- 
Let future tongues w r ith praise declare 
How we full boldly battled here. 
Come Marion ! come ! our call obey, 
Our leader thou on freedom's way, 
Thy soul best fitted to command 
When foes would ravage our fair land, 
Then teach us here what steps to take, 
We'll dare the worst for freedom's sake J* 

XX. 

Then Marion spake, as roll'd his eye 
O'er that stern group prepar'd to die- 
Since you have chosen I should guide, 
When foes come on in flood-like tide, 
With right good will, and honest pride, 
The task I will upon me take, 



29 

Nor from it swerve or once forsake, 
Till freedom's flag unfearing waves 
O'er this lov'd land, or till our graves 
Are dug here in our mother earth, 
From wh.ich._we all have had our birth, 

XXL 

Hie to your homes and arm for strife ! 
For sure t'will come as men have life ! 
Their scouts are watching from yon height, 
Fierce Tarlton comes our homes to light — 
Then hie thee hence — but meet again 
When morning's dawn lights up the plain, 

In yonder dell 

Remember well 

Where wild-cats brood 

Doth take its food, 
And where a whisper never swells, 
But still and dark the brooklet wells." 

XXII. 

They to their homes once more retir'd, 
Their hearts inflam'd their bosoms fir'd — 
Then strong arms sought stout arms to find, 
Gun, sword, or spear of any kind, 
Ready, that when the morn should wake, 
Forth on the way they could them take. 

XXIII. 

The abode of Alice's father stood 
Upon a gentle sloping height, 
While from high road up to it led, 



30 

A winding path richly bedight 
By poplars tall, and may-poles trim, 
With here and there a huge oak grim, 
Rang'd underneath in close hedg'd rowsr 
The English thorn intwining grows ; 
And flowers there bloom' d carnation rare t 
Sweet lilly-beds and violets fair — 
The green lawn's spread on every side, 
And murm'ring west two streamlets glide, 
Lovely and fair the rural sight 
And rich was all as glad sunlight. 

XXIV. 

There Alice rear'd, with gentle hand 
The flowerets, by the breezes fann'd ; 
There bloom' d free in each lov'd spot 
Sweet morning-rose, forget-me-not, 
There peaceful past the hours had gone, 
Since they had left Old England's home. 
There they had fondly hop'd to dwell, 
To God in peace their anthems swell, 
Their hearts to cheer with light and love, 
And flower the way to life above. 
But vain the visions of man's mind, 
All indistinct and undefm'd ; — 
This lovely spot was doom'd to share 
Life's evils rude, its ills to bear. 

XXV. 

Calmly sweet evening steals along, 
While o'er the plain the rustic's song 
As mellow light fades in the west, 



31 

Is borne to ear, for he is blest 
With plenty in his field and barn, 
His God he thanks in accents warm. 

XXVI. 

But hark from far, hear other notes, 
O'er vale and hill their echo floats ; 
Hist ! 'tis the bugle's cheering strain, 
Its notes roll on along the plain — 
Yonder, approacheth down the glen, 
The echoing tramp of armed men, 
Their steeds hard hoofs make earth to jar 
Ho ! now they come ! the sons of war. 
'Fore Merton's gates their reins they slack. 
That lordly brood, the British pack — 
Freely they prance the alley wide, 
Till on the lawn their coursers bide. 
"Dismount! dismount !" their leader cries, 
"Pitch here your tents ! for yonder lies 
The meeting spot of rebel foes, 
His duty each one full w^ell knows.'' 

XXVII. 

The timid deer that feeding there 
Upon the lawn flew far in fear, 
Swiftly they sped their bounding way 
To forest covert on that day, 
The house-dog, strong in surly mood, 
Would gladly taste intruders blood, 
But Merton's self, too stark and old, 
He, to resist such warriors bold, 



32 

He bade them lodge as best they "might, 
And freely there their camp fires light. 

XXVIII. 

The tory Captain swaggering brave, 
Some downy place his limbs must have ; 
The camp fare with its blanket rude 
Would not well suit his nature proud. 
To Merton's halls he forthwith hies, 
And to their inmates bravely cries, — 
"By England's king, and England's laws, 
By England's might, and for her cause, 
I here demand allegiance true, 
Which as her subjects you do owe, 
Within these halls must I abide 
Till I've dispersed yon coward tribe. 
Commission from my king I bear 
Resist his power,— old man! who dare !" 

XXIX. 

Partake my cheer sit at my board, 
Thus Merton bade the tory lord, 
But yet methinks before you're through,, 
Yon fearless band will make you rue 
Your visit to the Santee's shore, 
Yea ! make you curse the very hour — 
My arm is feeble, too is gone 
The youthful vigor once its own ; 
This nerveless frame you need not fear, 
Though you as foes do visit here ; 
Yet were my blood as free to run, 
As in my prime, vile tory's son! 



33 

I'd try thy blade, yes, hilt to hilt ! 

Till thy proud blood or mine were spilt.' J 

XXX. 

Thy age doth well thy base life guard, 

Else thou should's feel my keen edg'd sword- 

Thy words, old man, well merit death ! 

Treason is in their very breath, 

I battle not with hoary age 

With stronger foes I would engage. 

XXXI. 

With subtle tongue, new themes he brought, 

Stor'd in his mind not all untaught ; 

For there was one sat at that board 

Whose presence sav'd its rightful lord, — 

'Twas Alice mild, form like a fairy, 

That seem'd to him a being sery ; 

Little he'd thought on such far shore, 

Abode a mind so gentle, pure. 

In converse mild hours flew apace, 

Till time again brought resting space ; 

Then each retir'd to seek repose, 

Or watch for dawn till it arose. 

XXXII. 

Could Alice sleep ? — not on that night, 
For well she knew 'fore morning's light 
Would glint upon the orient sky, 
'Ere Luna's orb rode zenith high, 
That Edgar, 'spite of armed foe, 



34 

Would come to her the truth to know. 
Anxious she watch' d each hour that flew 
That she might greet her Edgar true, 
Softly from brambles underneath, 
A whisper rcse as still as breath, 
Comes to her casement, light upborne, 
"Alice ! dear Alice ! thee I warn. 
Beware that soldiers blighting tongue, 
To day we've met — 'tis lightly strung; 
To-day, as from his train remote 
He rode this way, he saw my boat, 
As in it I did calmly float — 
He bade me to the shore, — I came, 
With bearing high, he ask'd my name, 
And whether I to rebel crew 
That muster near dar'd hold me true?" 

XXXIII. 

"I answer gave through my set teeth 
So fierce and hot rush'd forth my breath, 
A rebel crew, dar'st thou to say ? 
That for thy pains and lcam to day, 
That freedom's sons will never bear 
Insult on insult let who dare 
To pile them on in haughty mood, 
We'll wash them out in his own blood J" 

XXXIV. 

I fought him with my ready blade, 
Till aid it came, retreat he made ; 
But as he left, I heard him say, 
'We meet again another day' — 



35 

The day will come when we will meet, 
I'll lay the despot at my feet. 

XXXV. 

"Beware, oh Edgar ! pray beware ! 
Blood ! yes, blood ! oh learn to spare ! 
Hie quickly hence, or else too late 
Thou'lt be yon wakeful guards to 'scape ; 
Remember I am ever true, 
To heaven, to thee, and country too ; 
But morning dawns, away ! away ! 
Yet come again soon as you may !" 

XXXVI. 

Lightly he pass'd from tree to tree, 
Ne'er panther's tread, more soft could be, 
Till reach'd the outmost soldiers guard, 
Freely he bounded o'er the sward ; 
To Marion he did hast'ning hie 
And told him of the foe then nigh. 

XXXVII. 

In musing mood he heard the tale, 

But not for once could his heart fail ; 

Of stern material was he made, 

Nor of a foe was he afraid — 

"The day uprises gay and light, 

The young lark soars in morning bright, 

The meeting morn, then let us there 

The council of the brave to share. 



36 
XXXVIII. 

They met again, that daring band — 
In swampy hold they made their stand, 
Those faithful sons on chargers strong, 
Their purpose known — to crush the wrong, 
They knew the morrow's duty well ; 
Their bosom's burn'd, their hearts did swell, 
With purpose high, which plainly told, 
Each one to death or freedom sold. 



CANTO III. 



I. 

Wild war, unpitying, red and stern, 
Blights happy homes, and fields and fern, 
Makes mothers weep and fathers mourn, 
A much lov'd son from their arms torn. 
Fond brother is from sister parted, 
By battle's tide both broken hearted, 
And foe is foe, and friend is friend, 
Till death's thick bolts their mad lives end. 



37 
II. 

Its 'larum notes sound o'er the world, 

Its loud defiance madly hurl'd, 

As swiftly wheeling in their ranks, 

A mortal's blood gleaming blade drinks. 

Its force is felt o'er all the land, 

No place that's by the breezes fann'd, 

But hears its wringing voice proclaim — 

"Honor the brave ! to coward shame !" 

Its thirst unslack'd, it drinks the blood, 

As in red torrents it is pour'd ; 

The widow's shriek and heart wrung moan. 

Its fondest music sweetest tone. 

III. 

The grum commander of that crew, 

Had ponder' d well the long night through. 

When morning dawn'd o'er earth, lov'd earth, 

New projects in his mind had birth. 

Fair Alice's charms his heart inflam'd, 

But he'd a rival, for she'd nam'd 

Her Edgar in a doting mood; 

Of him he'd gladly shed the blood ; 

His black heart glory' d when he knew, 

That he belong' d to rebel crew. 

IV. 

"I'd see," said he, "I'd see him once, 
That I might mark the soulless dunce ; 
Then when in battle men engage, 
When son with son fierce war doth wage, 

7 



38 

FI1 seek him in the thickest strife, 
And steel to steel will take his life. 
Never before has beat this heart 
To charms so potent or so pert, 
And rest I will -not, for a day, 
Till he is taken from my way ; 
She shall be mine, I'll win the fair 
Though demon's ire I have to dare.' r 



That band, we said, again had met, 
In swampy hold their fire was lit ; 
They gather' d as the morning broke, 
To free their land from tyrant's yoke ; 
But not with jest or loud ton'd song, 
Still as mute death thither they throng — 
They heard with an expectant ear, 
Of armed foe encamped near ; 
All saw the trial near at hand, 
With souls prepar'd the shock to stand. 
Some there had come no arms could find, 
That suited well the ready mind ; 
Yet in the fray they'd dare to mingle, 
Though sword to sword in meeting jingle, 
With nothing but each brawny arm 
And its own strength they'd foes disarm. 

VL 

All met that day had mettle good, 
Though ne'er as yet they'd spill'd of blood. 
Marion saw the woful need, 
That weapons soon should be supply'd, 



39 

He heard the millwright's saw afar, 
As its harsh sounds were borne on air ; 
Which furnish'd to his teeming mind, 
The only arms his need could find. 
Prompt was he thither to repair, 
And save the man its further care ; 
For since he'd not for freedom go, 
Well might he taste oppression too. 

VII. 

He wrench'd it from its wonted place 

Before the sawyer's awe-struck face, 

And bore it to his comrades, then, 

While words like these from his tongue ran, 

" They think us boys, they'll find us men," — 

From it good trusty swords are form'd, 

By ready arms for conflict warm'd ; 

No man but felt of power possessed, 

To brave a score if he were pressed ; 

Pulses beat high as sank the sun, 

Many e'en wish'd the strife begun. 

VIII. 

But there is F duty to be done 

By some bold heart and daring son ; 

Marion would know how much of game, 

His band must conquer or reclaim — 

Some one he'd have of daring high, 

Prndpnt and cautions, cool and sly, 

Who to their very camp should hie, 

How guards were plac'd and all should spy, 

And thence should bring the tidings rare, 



40 

While others wait the mission drear. 
Blithe from the green sward lightly sprang, 
Each warrior rude, and instant flung 
His knapsack and his blanket by, 
That he might then the errand try. 

IX. 

But there is one hath stronger prest 
For daring deed than all the rest. 
And who is he ? 'tis Edgar ready, 
With truest hand and a nerve steady, 
His foot the lightest of that crew, 
And he the path of all best knew. 
Marion, too, good proof he bore 
Which he'd received but short before, 
That Edgar was the best prepar'd 
To 'tempt a deed he once had dar'd. 
Forth then he takes his dark'ning way, 
While Marion's band again there lay 
Their wearied limbs along the ground, 
And soon are wrapt in slumber sound. 

X. 

His way right fast Edgar pursu'd, 
While darkness gathered o'er the wood. 
Safely he passed where cascades roar'd, 
The crystal stream's oft travers'd ford, 
Fearless he track'd the forest's maze, 
Though screecWgr panthers fiercely raise. 
Their hideous notes at dawning night 
Which less stout souls might fill with fright. 
Them he reck'd not — they harmless were, 



41 

From such-like foes he'd nought to fear. 
Onward he held unerring course, 
But prudence warns, for yon's the force, 
That Britain sends to put to shame 
"The, rebel souls their hearts to tame." 

XL 

His way towards camp he noiseless takes 

Of trees' huge trunk a guard he makes,— 

The Sentinel paces his round; 

With watchful ear he hears the sound 

Of crackling bough as it is broke 

By some intruder's daring foot. 

An ill mischance it was indeed, 

For him that he the noise had heard. 

Before the cry of "who goes there " 

Could 'scape his lips, — no time to spare, 

Edgar upon him promptly sprung, 

And to the ground the tory flung : 

His rifle's wadding then supplied, 

A gag which he might safely bide, 

While arms he closely bound behind, 

More firm and strong, than light and kind. 

XII. 

And feet he scrupl'd not to lash 
To a young sturdy growing ash. 
'Twas then he left him to repose, 
As best he might till morn arose. 
Securely done, the prudent deed, 
A ready mind he well might need, 
Renew'd his caution, on he moves, 



42 

O'er sleeping foes he noiseless roves ;— 
Carefully noted as he might 
Their number in so dark a night* 

XIII. 

Yet on, still on, for lo ! a light, 
From lowest casement greets his sight* 
Unheard he creeps, for he would see, 
Who the late sitters there may be ; 
Gain'd is the porch, cool he to stand* 
And view at once the social band ; 
There grey hair'd Merton calmly sits 
While by his side his good dame knits* 
And tory captain he so bold, 
Fair Alice's hand dares seek to hold. 

XIV. 

This was enough — Edgar's on fire, 

His arm is raised in warm desire* 

To plunge his dagger's shining blade 

Into his heart, he would have dy'd 

Its steely point in his foul blood ; 

But prudence bade him calm his mood. 

His mettle rais'd, thrown off his guard, 

Hard steel resounds on stepstone hard, 

Surpriz'd all turn'd, that they might learn* 

Intruder's foot or form discern. 

XV. 

With flashing eye before them stood, 
Edgar in stern unmoving mood 
Each recogniz'd his foe's true guise, 



43 

Brightly glow'd light from out their eyes ; 

Wildly cried Alice in affright ; 

"How dare you come this fearful night ? 

Fly, Edgar ! fly ! and do not stay ! 

Oh, for your life ! away ! away ! 

Hark ! the camp without is life, 

The dark hour is with peril rife, 

Haste ! haste thee, hence ! away, now speed ! 

Else in these halls thou sure wilt bleed." 

XVI. 

The soldier rose from off his bed, 

And grasp'd his arms, wild and afraid; 

Where ! where's the foe ! all loud inquir'd, 

At awkward random guns are fir'd. 

Edgar had heard the tumult rise, 

While daring beam'd forth from his eyes. 

"Better we know each other now, 

Vile tory ! then, hear this my vow ! 

Before another sun shall set, 

I'll try thy bones, my blade to whet." 

XVII. 

These were his words, then freely sprung, 
He from that hall while after rung » 

The shouts of soldiers in the chase 
As searched they each nook and place, 
Which shelter to a foe might give, 
Or that his body might receive ; 
But vain was all, for far had flown, 
The fearless, bold, intruding one ; 
Amaz'd they stare and wildly wonder, 



44 

As finding one, were left to ponder — 

The poor guard, gagg'd, and bound and mute, 

His usage can but badly suit, 

And free'd again, he dares relate, 

His cruel foe and wretched fate. 

XVIII. 

With breathless speed back Edgar hies, 
T'where Marion's band in freedom lies, 
He reach'd their place, a hillock rare, 
Which they had chosen with due care. 
He look'd around in vain to spy, 
If leader or a friend were nigh, 
So well concealed by bush and brake 
That firmest band their rest there take ; 
Sounding but once his whistle shrill, 
And instant teems that woody hill, 
With full six score of warriors strong, 
Ready to battle 'gainst the wrong. 

XIX. 

They listen as he briefly tells 

" The foe to mighty number swells ;" 

Yet blenches not a single eye, 

Nor one heart fails, but they would try 

The temper of their hard wrought blades, 

Upon their plum'd opposing heads. 

What though their number were four fold ? 

All felt within a strength to hold, 

Or make the lion dearly pay, 

His trans-Atlantic "boyish play." 

"Our blades are drawn, let's on to strife ! 



45 

For freedom, we will yield up life ! 
Glory, it were that we might die 
In her good cause ! in her grave lie ! 
Marion ! we wait but thy command 
To fight the foe ! e'en hand to hand J" 

XX. 
Marion, as standing there aloof, 
Had scann'd the group and mark'd each hoof ; 
He saw them strong and sound that morn, 
Then gaily wound his hunting horn, 
Lightly in saddle at a leap, 
No longer waited they for sleep, 
In single line they file away 
From their wild hold, by midnight ray— ~ 
Silent as spectres on they glide, 
O'er hill and vale, through river's tide— 
And noiseless speed upon their course, 
The leader with his trusty force. 

XXI. 

Their way they trod through forests dark, 
Where grey owls hoot and foxes bark — 
Devious the pathway which they take, 
No foe could trace their footsteps back. 
On, on they press, day was as black 
As night itself where winds the track — 
Till from the forest they emerg'd — 
"Be prudent, cautious," — Marion urg'd. 
They vow'd to do their duty well, 
If foe appear' d his blood to spill; 
For righteous was their cause, and wrong 
They'd battle 'gainst both firm and long. 



46 

XXII. 

Watch well that hand, as still as death 

It creeps through hedge, each holds his breath, 

For fear some warning it might bear, 

And tell the foe that they were near. 

Their covert safe they gain unseen, 

As on the hills is morning's sheen. 

Ready all stand that when the shout 

Of Marion's voice should loud ring out, 

They then might swoop upon the prey, 

And make them mourn a direful day. 

XXIII. 

Proud Britain's sons betimes awake, 
For coming foe that they may make, 
Themselves prepared — now all is life, 
For despots slaves are up for strife. 
They well conjectured since had been 
The rebels near, their camp had seen, 
That soon theyM hear their feeble cry, 
As soon theyM make the pack to fly ; 
No thought had they at hand to hear, 
Upon that morn their ringing cheer ; 
Nor fancied once that time had been 
To marshal there six score of men. 
Secure in thought then all are seen 
As carefully their arms they clean, 
Or listlessly about do stand, 
Unthinking speak of rebel band. 

XXIV. 
"On, comrades ! on, in freedom's name V 
Loudly 'tis shouted o'er the plain ; — 



47 

Marion's strong voice through welkin rung*, 
Stronger response each free tongue flung ; 
Earth seem'd awaken'd by the sound, 
As on the sward they o'erward bound, 
And Britain's sons fearfully quake 
As see they there from bush and brake 
Unnumber'd foes start up at hand, 
And hear again the shouting band. — 
" On ! on ! our country's cause we serve, 
Nor from our duty will we swerve." 

XXV. 

On comes the foe arm'd for the strife, — 
Ho, haughty Britons ! now for life, 
Stand firm and fast ! for once be bold ! 
Else will your lives be cheaply sold! — 
With headlong speed that tide rush'd on, 
The servants of a king and crown ; 
And now in fearful shock they meet, 
The stoutest scarce can hold his seat, 
With such fierce power doth Marion come, 
So well each blow is strong dealt home. 
Grim death in there is smiling glory, 
And stalks the field blood-red and gory- — 
See ! they meet ! ye& } blade to blade, 
Lo ! many in the dust are laid. 

XXVI. 

Hark ! groans ascend and curses rise 
In mingling accents to the skies, 
And dark eyes glare with fury red, 
As sinks a foe on gory bed— 



48 

More loudly rings the battle's din, 
As cleaving blades their lean ranks thin, — 
Oh war ! fierce war ! sons lov'd are dyed, 
With human gore who there do ride. 

XXVII. 

The tory captain rideth there 
And loudly cries — "no rebel spare ! 
" Down with the worms, and let them eat 
'• The dust we tread beneath our feet ! " 
Again, again the shout doth ring, 
"We battle for our throne and king!" 
While full and strong the answer comes, 
"We battle for our lives and homes. " 

XXVIII. 

Edgar's good blade had serv'd him well 
But yet desire within did swell ; 
The strife so thick he had not found, 
The foe he'd have to bite the ground,' — 
Lo ! now he sees his tow'ring form, 
As high he sways his mighty arm ; 
Though ranks divide, and foes debar, 
His sword soon wins a passage there. 

XXIX. 

And Edgar's eye, — more fiercely flames, 
As single strife he from him claims. 
The "Red-Coat" turned his foe to know, 
And madder was his soul's mad glow, 
With full intent, for him before 
Stood dauntless one he hated sore ; 



49 

He saw stern death writ in his face, 
He felt that here the time and place 
Had near arrived, when he must try, 
His long sought foe or coward fly. 

XXX, 

Both anew their nude swords poise, 

As fiercer flash their flaming eyes, 

" And face to face and blade to blade" 

Each blow is taken and repaid. 

Warmer in the fight they grow, 

Like lightning falls each heavy blow; 

Till Edgar with his furious steel 

Makes horse and rider both to reel; 

The red blood trickles from a wound, 

And spots beneath the dusty ground. 

The tory saw his hour was near, 

'Twas then he quaiPd in real fear; 

Bitter had been his fate, and soon 

Had he to death's dread realms been borne. 

XXXI. 

But hark ! again another shout, 

Through space's void comes ringing out, 

"No quarter to the rebels give, 

Death be their lot, or death receive V 9 

A new foe comes with boasted power, 

Who ! who ! shall bide the awful hour ? 

"Ho, Tarlton ! Tarlton !" is the cry 

Those dying sons shout to the sky ; 

Anew the wearied arms inspir'd 

Anew with hope, their souls are fir'd, 
9 



50 

Now they can rout the rebel force, 

And soon will slay them, man and horse, 

XXXII. 

"But where are they ? " — in vain for foe 
They look around, above, below, 
All, all have vanish'd, nought is seen. 
Save trampled turf and wounded men ; 
Not one remained save those whom death 
Had quite depriv'd of life and breath* 

XXXIIL 

Marion had heard the loud hallo, 

And shrill and strong his trumpet blew ; 

Then gave command — "away ! away ! 

My comrades all without delay. 

Hie to the swamp, its thickets dark 

Shall be to us a saving ark ; 

No longer wait, but follow me ! 

We'v prov'd us men, then let us flee, 

For folly it would be to fight 

The mighty foe that rides in sight. v 

XXXIV. 

From struggling with a band so heft 

Marion and his band have left, 

To sure covert they were flying 

As morn to heaven above was hieing ; 

By the same track they reach' d again 

The hillock where before they'd been ; 

And then his troop would Marion view, 



51 

To see who'd rode the battle through. 
His true eye misses many a form 
That in the morn with life was warm, 
The one of all he least could spare, 
** What meaneth this that he's not here?" 

XXXV. 

Edgar! yes, Edgar is away! 

Where is he now, can he delay, 

Or hath he pour'd his precious blood, 

Upon that well contested sod? 

No one could tell of Edgars fate, 

No more than this could they relate, 

That as the strife most hotly rag'd, 

They saw him with the foe engag'd, 

Whom they that morning heard to cry 

" Spare not the rebels, let them die." 

All anxious were to know his fate, 

Yet scarce dar'd hear, nor scarce could wait 

From rushing back to Edgar's claim, 

By their right arms in freedom's name. 

XXXVI. 

Edgar, stout Tarlton's coming knew, 

He saw his friends to covert flew, 

He saw he'd little time to spare; 

More swiftly clave his sword through air. 

The tory capta'n once so bold, 

But little chance for life did hold ; 

Yet fortune favor'd him that hour, 

And sav'd him from his foes dread power. 

The haughty Briton lieth low, 



52 

The blood from many a wound doth flow, 

Edgar's arm is rais'd on high 

To strike the blow that he may die. 

XXXVIL 

Lucky r twas for him that he then 
Heard shouting near him Tarltoir s men. 
To Edgar it was worse than death. 
What could he live whilst foe had breath. 
So arrogant and haut as this 1 
To lose his life had then been bliss. 
His arm drops nerveless by his side, 
As onward the fierce troopers ride. 
Ah bitter was the searching lead 
As on its hissing flight it sped, 
His shoulder felt the fatal bite, 
What could avail his vengeful spite? 

XXXVIIL 

Alice had heard the battle crash, 
And watch'd stern war its horrors' flash; 
With breathless frame she saw the strife 
That Edgar waged as for his life — 
Vainly she warn'd him to forbear, 
Of coming foe, beware ! beware ! 
Unheeded was her anxious voice, 
Till flndeth he no other choice ; 
Bloody he turn'd from strife away 
And gave the reins to his stout grey. 

XXXIX. 
His charger's hoofs indent the ground, 
Leave wond'rous space at single bound* 



53 

Fierce Tarlton hotly did pursue, 
As Edgar faint defiance blew ; 
But his brain whirls and his form reels, 
While from behind come borne the peals 
Of foes fast following in the chase, 
Yet his good steed outstrips the race ; 
By instinct taught he leadeth on 
The path he'd come in morning's dawn; 
The covert known and true he takes 
Safely o'er stream the right ford makes. 
The reins still Edgar feebly grasp'd, 
Yet little knew how far he'd pass'd. 
With warning strength that doth remain, 
He clingeth to his horse's mane, 
Till bravely borne to their retreat, 
He lifeless falls at comrades' feet. 

XL. 

As if he knew his duty done, 

The noble grey one loud snort flung, 

That made the forest tremble there, 

And brought the band to Edgar's care. 

They raised him from the turf clad ground, 

And careful dress' d the cruel wound ; 

His temples with cool waters lav'd, 

"He opes his eyes ? thank God ! he's sav'd!" 

XLI. 

But Tarlton's crew, in vain they seek, 

Their foe's swift flight they cannot keep, 

With curses loud they give it o'er 

And turn them back to Merton's door ; 
10 



54 

They turn' d them back to note the dead, 
Who there repos'd on gory bed ; 
This death-told truth they then did learn, 
If they were rebels, they were stern; 
For in best blood before them lay, 
Full many a comrade on that day. 



CANTO IV. 
THE CONCLUSION. 

L 

Lovely is the gentle morning, 
That peace and pleasure brings ; 

That rises clearly earth adorning 
On gay and golden wings. 

II. 

And pleasing 'tis when life doth fly 
Smoothly and sweetly 'way , 

To looking back, review the high, 
Existence's former devious w T ay. 

III. 

Man struggles on 'gainst thousand ills, 
Hoping to win a happy goal ; 

Some cups there are which fortune fills 
Yes, seeming to the full. 



55 

IV. 

Oh happy they, who tempest dark, 
Outride in safely well-mann'd bark ; 
Who with fond greeting on blest shore, 
Each other join, their dangers o'er. 



When true hearts part 

Tis sad indeed ; 
They meet again, 

Again to bleed. 

VI. 

But when the partings all are done, 
The bark safe moor'd. the rocks all run, 
Such a rich day as shows its dawn, 
Let's view awhile as journeying on. 

VII. 

Majestic forests wave around, 
The tree tops bow their heads profound, 
As morning's breeze their foliage shakes 
And passing through, soft whispers makes. 
Unnumbered songsters tune their notes, 
Through space and air sweet music floats, 
The scene is mellow, ripe and grand, 
Gay nature dress'd by God's own hand — 
But not to all is pleasure borne 
Though over earth, smiles happy morn ; 
For some there are whom anxious care 
With his fell might doth fiercely tear ; 



56 

Who, though all nature laughs in light, 
Unsolac'd are by the glad sight. 

VIII. 

Thus Alice on that morn did view, 
The earth, fair earth, and welkin blue ; 
Unclouded was the lofty arch, 
As on his way in upward march, 
In path of gold Sol travell'd forth, 
Imparting life to all the earth. 
Yes, she the fairy scene look'd o'er, 
While bodings tried her heart the more. 
Vain, vain was all, for nought could cheer, 
The scene without but made more drear, 
The fancyings her mind within; — 
Of Edgar's fate nought could she win. 
She saw him wounded, weak and sore, 
As his grey bounded o'er the moor ; 
She watch' d the forest to discern 
Some fearless scout, that she might learn, 
Aught of his fate, but none there came, 
That she could see or call by name — 
Thus cruel hours and days did wane 
In anxious care and boding pain. 

IX. 

"And Edgar ! where ? oh where is he ? 
Is he ungrateful ? can this be ? 
Will heart like his prove cold at last ? " 
Such thoughts like these, then thick and fast 
Came crowding up on Alice's brain, 
But not long there could they remain. 



TTT 

" What he be false ? no ! never, no ! 

Such truth indeed were worse than woe ; 

I'd ne'er believe so base a tale, 

Nor human nature half as frail. 

No ! if he yet lives, he's true to me 

As sun to earth or shore to sea; 

Then back, unhallow'd thoughts where born, 

Back ! back! foul conjurers, thee I warn ! " 

X. 
Too, Edgar's mind was sorely tried, 
And galling was it to his pride, 
To lie in forest deep and dark, 
In hovel rude, and hear the bark 
Of free grey squirrel as he sprung 
From bough to bough, or gaily swung, 
Rejoicing in his wide domain 
Devoid of care, devoid of pain, 
And know that the once conquer' d tory 
Was safe exulting in his glory. 

XL 
To bear his wounds, their aching smarts, 
Not half so painful were these hurts, 
As 'twas for him this truth to know 
That he, his hated, bitter foe, 
Yet lived free, abiding still, 
In Merton's halls; 'tis this doth fill 
His soul with rage, his mind inflames, 
While his weak frame soft usage claims. - 

XII. 
Sad days fly on their lengthy rounds, 
But strength not yet to him rebounds; 
Proscrib'd was he and vainly sought, 



Reward was bid if safely brought; 

His home was search' d, they found no trace, 

Of him they'd with a prison grace. 

He, he, was safe, they dare not come, 

To Marion's den, his swampy home. 

XIII. 

That boastful lord would take his life, 
By foulest means, for in fell strife 
He'd not again with him engage; 
Some other way he'd slake his rage. 
He knew the weight of Edgar's blade, 
With it acquaintance he had made ; 
He knew to shun its fatal power 
Would save his life in any hour. 
To dastard cowards he w^ould give, 
A great reward, if he did live, 
Would they but sate his veng'ful will 
And the much dreaded rebel kill. 

XIV. 

All was in vain, where'ere they sought, 

And flowing time, strength Edgar brought. 

Marion to know what foes are 'bout, 

Daily his trusty scouts sent out ; 

Like panthers thirsty, drain they blood, 

From straying ones of Tarlton's brood. 

Cursing, the tory often hears, 

New tales of foes that give him fears— 

His sentinels that set at night 

When morning dawns with rudy light, 

Not one is found to tell a tale, 



59 

They all are gone, or stiff and pale, 
Their limbs are stretch' d along the ground, 
As if t'were true death reign'd around. 

XV. 

" What's to be done V 1 for now he fears 
The foxe's bark that greets his ears. 
" What ! must we fly so small a foe ? 
Must Merton's saying prove too true ? 
No ! let them meet us if they dare, 
We'll prove us hearts that never fear ; 
These skulking foes that pick our guards, 
We'll give them yet their due rewards, 
They'll have a physic that shall cure 
Their coward souls and rebel power." 
Little they thought again to hear 
That eve their bold and ringing cheer. 

XVI. 

Ever for his country's good, 

Watchful Marion is abroad ; 

New allies he hath daily found 

Who to his cause at heart are bound, 

Stout constant hearts are flocking there, 

That country's dangers wish to share ; 

At last he's gather' d a free band, 

That with the foe some chance may stand. 

XVII. 

What though their lair be forest dark ? 
What though they hear the swamp fox bark .' 
What though their food be such as grows 



60 

On oak trees tall, drink such as flows 

In nature^ rills as down they leap 

From the huge mountain's craggy steep ? 

What though their bed be mossy sod ? 

They have a guard, and he is God. 

To him they look as guide and strength 

Who their good cause will right at length. 

What though their fare be cold and hard ? 

From mouth escapes no murm'ring word. 

Their cause were food, and life, and health, 

And if once gain' d, unbounded wealth. 

Then they'd not falter, or repine, 

While heaven remain'd, or bright sun's shine, 

But firm they'd battle free and brave, 

From tyrant's power their homes would save. 

XVIII. 

Edgar's blood begins to flow, 
His fever'd veins more freely through. 
Of Alice day by day he'd thought, 
And aught to hear had vainly sought. 
That captain guard had kept full well, 
"No tale should they each other tell. v 
Edgar's strength is well repair'd, 
Though he has pain and anguish shar'd. 
Again remembers he his word, 
Again he'd try the tory's sword, 
If but once more he could him meet, 
He'd lay him quiv'ring at his feet. 

XIX. 
Night once again staels gently on, 
A night for mighty deeds renown. 



61 

The placid moon, fair orb above, 

Cheers sister earth with light and love ; 

The silver stars, from far on high, 

Send their mild rays through space and sky, 

To cheer it on its destin'd course 

Guided by one unfailing force ; 

But as they roll far out away 

Their circling orbs in light and day, 

And as the earth best known of all, 

Answers as true, her maker's call, 

And rolleth on calm and serene, 

Yet on her face another scene 

Makes christian's heart to freeze and chill, 

For mortals strive with ireful will. 

XX. 

Forth once again see Edgar go 

To scan the movements of the foe. 

Pistols and sword girt at his side, 

He travers'd through the forest wide. 

No thought had he that on that night, 

Marion chose the foe to fight, 

For well he'd kept it from his ear ; 

He knew his blood, and most for fear 

That Edgar's strength would not him bear, 

When mad foes press in front and rear J 

"He's gone ! he's gone ! rash and alone." 

Throughout the camp the truth's soon known, 

"We must be up and on our way, 

Or he will dearly daring pay.' ' 

Each springs upon his steed's round back, 

And bolt is off upon the track. 
11 



62 
XXI. 

The well known way brave* Edgar took 
Through glen, and vale o'er babbling brook ; 
He sought the fond remember' d bow'r, 
Where oft had flown the happy hour ; 
Where oft he'd met his Alice dear, 
Nought to disturb, no foes to fear. 
Circling he scann'd the precincts 'round, 
Where still the red-coat tribe was found ; 
He saw them wrapt in slumber deep, 
Save those who're stationed guard to keep ; 
Cautious he crept along the ground 
Lest the dull guard might hear some sound, 
And warning give to all the band; 
Then were in vain the stoutest hand. 

XXIL 

Safely he pass'd, and safely gain'd, 

The arbor which I've before nam'd. 

He had not thought to meet her there, 

As long had been his anxious prayer ; 

But lo ! before him in surprise 

Fair Alice op'd her wondering eyes ; 

Warm tears bedim'd their shining jet; 

" Oh Edgar ! thou'rt alive then. yet ! 

Methought perchance that thou wert dead, 

Or that thou had'st forever fled, 

And left me here, alone to share, 

Life's evils rude, its ills to bear ; 

But oh, forgive me ! Edgar kind, 

That such dark thoughts should fill my mind." 



63 

XXIII. 

Kindly he Alice's doubtings chides, 
And tells his tale as old time glides. 
He learns the swag' ring tory dares, 
To press his suit with formal airs — 
But they must part, he must away, 
Back to his camp without delay ; 
One kiss he steals from her fair cheek, 
Returning kiss doth farewell speak. 
He turns to go — but 'fore him stood, 
The Briton in his proudest mood. 
Small is the hope Edgar has now 
Yet he'd not die without a blow. 
"Ho, guards !" — the tory loudly cried, 
As then they battl'd side by side. 

XXIV. 

The camp has woke, but ere they move 
A loud knell rings from hill and grove — 
"On to the rescue, comrades brave ! 
For Edgar's life we now must save." 
Ho ! like a torrent on they pour, 
While blows fall fast in blighting show'r. 
Such sudden onset none could bide, 
In vain to rally Tarlton tried ; 
Nought could he do but try retreating, 
Where'r he turn'd foes gave him meeting. 
His soldiers then with curse and yell, 
In death's cold arms around him fell, 
While swelling cry, to his ear comes, 
"On, for your freedom and your homes!" 



64 
XXV. 

Yes, Britain's sons are forc'd to fly, 
While shout with shout ascends on high* 
"Marion ! Marion ! is the name, 
Comrades shout it high as fame I 
He for our leader, God our guide, 
No foe shall dare our onset bide ! " 
They drove them far from Merton's dooE, 
Then Britain's sons curs'd luckless hour, 
When first they saw the Santee's shore, 
When there they felt the rebel's power.. 

XXVL 

"But where is Edgar in the strife ? 
Doth he yet live ? hath he yet life ? ,y 
In haste they search both far and near, 
While nought of Edgar can they hear, 
Till Marion found him at the door 
Stretch' d on the arbor's earth form'd floor ; 
While 'fore him lay in gore and blood, 
That Britain's son, the tory lord. 
And Alice too was lifeless found, 
Reclining there on earth's cold ground. 
Soon they revive her sinking form, 
Renew her life with cordials warm; 
She looks around with vacant gaze, 
At last her eyes their orbs upraise, 
The scene she views in wild' ring fright,. 
" Oh take me from this dreadful sight I 
Yet Edgar ! yes, oh ! where is he ? 
Wildly she spake. I no where see 



65 

His manly form as here he stood 

Tore sight was dim'd with flowing blood." 

XXVIII. 

Then to her was told his fate — 

They'd borne him hence — she could not Wait 

But she would fly and staunch his wounds 

Would soothe him with her voice's sounds, 

From morn till eve would watch him well a 

And cheer him by her presence's spell. 

They bind his hurts, and he again 

Must a long while in cot remain. 

Not irksomely the time will flee, 

For Alice his kind nurse will be. 

XXIX. 

The battle's o'er, the vic'try's won 
Sad is the duty to be done ; 
The lawn is strewn with gory forms, 
Which food must furnish for foul worms, 
Here a young heart hath ceas'd to beat, 
There a stern veteran death hath met, 
Here, one as parting with last breath, 
Clings to his blade even in death; 
Fathers and sons gasping lie low, 
Oh war ! fierce war ! how much of wo 
Red, follows in thy mighty wake, 
Oh what a picture ihou cans't make ! 
The scene is dread, crimson with blood. 
Then veil its hues beneath the sod. 



60 

XXX. 

Now hath dawn'd a happier day 
Oppression's drove, far, far away, 
Liberty has had its birth 
And its smiles cheer all the earth. 
Freedom's brave flag aloft doth wave, 
O'er the glad homes of free and brave. 
War's bray is hush'd, nor near its moan r 
Its fearful, harsh, discordant tone ; 
The land, fair land ! smiling doth bear 
Upon its face a new born year ; 
Never before since time's first dawn 
Beamed over hill so glad a morn, 
Never since sun to west had set, 
Had liberty its rising met. 

XXXI. 

And Edgar and his Alice dear 
Join'd heart and hand, had no more fear; 
For smiling 'round them full of mirth, 
Gay children cheer'd their household hearth- 
Old Merton's thoughtful dame did hear 
Their youthful hearts resound the cheer, 
That Marion gave, when rushing on 
His country's foes and vict'ry won; 
And Merton's self, he saw the morn 
Arise which doth bright earth adorn, 
His cheer with freedom's sons went up, 
'Ere he had drank his life's full cup. 

THE END. 




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